<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Husbands Who Cook Together Stay Together by shimmies</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27053032">Husbands Who Cook Together Stay Together</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/shimmies/pseuds/shimmies'>shimmies</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cooking, Cooking Lessons, David Rose Can Cook, David Rose Deserves Nice Things, David Rose Loves Patrick Brewer, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Flufftober, M/M, POV David Rose, Patrick Brewer is a Button, Patrick Brewer loves David Rose, Post-Canon, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:20:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>987</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27053032</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/shimmies/pseuds/shimmies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
      <p>As requested, a cooking story and it's cozy, autumn-themed and fluffy AF!</p>
    </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Brewer/David Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>75</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Husbands Who Cook Together Stay Together</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>As requested, a cooking story and it's cozy, autumn-themed and fluffy AF!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tightening the ear-loops of his mask, David adjusted it before walking into the grocery store. Patrick had agreed to let him leave the store early if he picked up the ingredients for their dinner. Ever since the stay-at-home order, they'd stopped going out to restaurants in Elmdale, and he and Patrick had started setting aside one night a week to cook themselves a three-course dinner.</p><p>He pushed the cart through the aisles, cringing as one of the wheels squeaked and rattled across the linoleum floor. Patrick had some sort of magical ability to find the good carts and he always seemed to get the bad ones when he was alone.</p><p>This week's dinner date was for "Meatless Monday." He studied Patrick's shopping list. Lasagna noodles, ("<em>the no-boil kind!</em>" Patrick had written), pasta sauce, ricotta, mozzarella, and parmesan cheeses, fresh basil, and a head of garlic. He'd also asked for graham crackers, which must be for the dessert. Hopefully a pie crust.</p><p>It wasn't too difficult to find the ingredients, and David found himself standing in line, on an "X" of blue masking tape. His usual facial expressions of disgust and disinterest didn't work from behind a mask, so he was forced to make reluctant small talk with the cashier. Patrick was so good at planning their meals, making shopping lists, navigating the aisles, bonding with cashiers...without him it was just a chore. Slipping his credit card underneath the plexiglass barrier, he paid for the groceries and rushed out the door.</p><p>Schitt's Creek could be unpredictable in October, and it was on the more unfortunate end of that spectrum today. It was just above freezing with a biting wind which cut straight through his sweater. He scurried over to the car to toss the groceries in the trunk.</p><p>---</p><p>"Next layer is sauce, honey," Patrick called out. He stood at the stove over a pot of boiling water with a pile of spinach from their store. "I'll be over with the spinach in a second."</p><p>David spread spoonfuls of pasta sauce on the first layer of noodles, and sprinkled the mozzarella and parmesan on top. Patrick walked over with a big bowl filled with the ricotta mixed with the blanched spinach. He playfully bumped David out of the way with his hips to layer the new mixture. David kissed him on the cheek and nuzzled into his neck.</p><p>He felt Patrick's hands running across his shoulders. "Have I told you how cute you look in an apron?"</p><p>"I'll have you know this sweater cost $1500, Patrick. I will <em>die</em> if it gets ruined by a $3 jar of sauce."</p><p>Patrick smiled and drew him in for a kiss. "I will <em>die</em> if you don't get started on the next layer."</p><p>Soon, the casserole dish was filled to the brim and David placed it in the oven with a sheet of tinfoil on top, per Patrick's direction.</p><p>Now, Patrick stood directly behind him, precariously balanced on his tiptoes. He wrapped his arms around him, confidently guiding David's hands which held their chef's knife.</p><p>"Slice these carrots lengthwise first then you chop them into little sticks for the salad."</p><p>Patrick's strong, wide hands gently gripped his wrists, and David could feel his chin resting on his shoulder. His short, blond stubble prickled against his neck, and soft curls poked into his ear. David enjoyed the warmth of Patrick wrapped around him as he prepared onions, cherry tomatoes, and cucumbers for the salad, all from local farmers.</p><p>He then mixed up a vinaigrette – one of the only things he could make confidently from scratch. Patrick had returned with some sort of odd mixing bowl. A <em>salad spinner</em>, he'd informed him. David found the process to be surprisingly relaxing as a comforting whirring noise accompanied the spin of the handle.</p><p>Patrick had left him to set the table with two of their fancy place settings from their registry. They'd opened a bottle of Merlot from their store, and lit a pumpkin spice scented candle between them. David dressed the salads and brought them each a generous helping of lasagna.</p><p>David smiled as he looked up at his husband, plump cheeks and short ringlets, biceps nicely filling the sleeves of the tight, short-sleeved navy button up with a subtle floral pattern. The candlelight reflected in his wide, honey-brown eyes, their date night meal spread in front of them.</p><p>He had no idea what he'd done to deserve this wonderful, perfect human being.</p><p>---</p><p>"Wanna grab our dessert from the pantry while I clean up the dishes?" Patrick asked.</p><p>"Grab what?"</p><p>"You'll see."</p><p>As David opened the pantry, he smiled upon seeing the stack of dark chocolate bars with a ribbon tied around it. Undoing the bow, he saw his three favorites: 95% cocoa, dark chocolate with hazelnut, and blackberry acai. When he returned to the kitchen, Patrick stood there with the graham crackers he'd bought, as well as a ziploc bag of oddly square marshmallows.</p><p>They moved the oversized ottoman right in front of the fire, and Patrick added another log. He handed David two marshmallows and a skewer.</p><p>"Did you <em>make</em> these?"</p><p>"Cindy made these for us when I went to pick up the new order of her soaps for the store."</p><p>David smiled as he speared the marshmallows and held it up to the fire. He leaned his head against Patrick's shoulder, basking in the warmth of the fire, the smell of the burning wood and caramelizing sugar, watching the dancing flames reflecting in his husband's eyes.</p><p>The marshmallow began dripping off the skewer and Patrick swooped in with a graham cracker. David opted for the hazelnut chocolate, smushing it down with a second cracker. He smiled at Patrick as he took a huge bite and offered him the other half. They both munched on their treats, giggling as they peppered each other with sweet, sticky kisses.</p><p>"Love you."</p><p>"Love you <em>s'more</em>."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Comment or DM if you have any quarantine-themed and/or fluffy story requests! I have no life and would love to write one for you!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>